


Sweet Sister

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Female Dean Winchester, Consensual Sex, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23643526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Sam has pined after Deanna for years.  Finally, they can't resist each other anymore.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101
Collections: Anon Works, SPN_Masquerade Spring 2020





	Sweet Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to this prompt from [SPN Masquerade](https://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/): "One of them is always a girl. They're now in their later teens where they're old enough to know it's wrong but also old enough to know they really like it."

It had been building since Sam hit puberty. He’d adored Deanna for as long as he could remember, constantly seeking his big sister’s approval and attention, even if he hated to admit it. And he’d always wanted to touch her, too. Dad wasn’t exactly a cuddler, so it had been Deanna who curled up with Sam on the couch to watch movies, and let him crawl into her bed when he had nightmares. 

It had all been entirely wholesome between the two of them, one of the few normal things in Sam’s life. And then Sam hit thirteen, and his hormones took that away from him. He liked girls, and Deanna was a girl. His dick just wouldn’t listen, no matter how many times he tried to explain to it that she was also his sister.

There was no separating himself from her. They lived on top of each other, sharing bedrooms in shitty rentals, and sometimes even motel beds when there was no cot to be had. He ran out the hot water in every place they stayed at, but jerking it didn’t help. Maybe if he’d ever had a girlfriend that lasted more than a few weeks he could’ve redirected his feelings, but that was impossible. They moved too often, and Dad disapproved of anything that distracted Sam from hunting, girls who weren’t Deanna included. 

At fourteen, Sam found himself in the backseat of the Impala with Deanna, while Dad was making an all-night drive through hundreds of miles of indistinguishable Midwestern cornfields. Deanna had fallen asleep, head pressed against the window, and her legs had fallen open slightly, her knees bare below her denim shorts. He’d laid a hand on her inner thigh and stroked the soft skin there ever so carefully with his thumb. He’d scarcely dared to move. He’d hated himself for it, taken it as proof that he was the unclean monster he’d always suspected, but he’d jerked off to the memory of touching her for years.

He’d figured it was him, some terrible uncleanness cooked into his bones, that he could never, ever inflict on Deanna. But then one night, in another shared bedroom, he’d started jerking off in his twin bed, three feet away from her, only to hear rough breathing that wasn’t his own. He’d looked over and seen the sheets on Deanna’s bed subtly moving with her hand, her eyes fixed on him. He’d begun touching himself again, still watching her, seeing only the faint impression of her panting lips in the dark, until he came with a frantic cry. He heard her follow, teeth clenched and moaning. They never talked about it. They never talked about so many things.

* * *

They’d been stuck in an Orlando motel for two weeks, and Dad had been AWOL for three days, chasing what was purported to be a skunk ape. Deanna was well past worrying about school, but Sam was annoyed they’d interrupted his senior year for this ridiculous chase. They weren’t going to be in town long enough for him to enroll anywhere. Deanna was the only person he’d talked to in days. 

He got out of the shower after a run, and pulled on a pair of sweat pants. He decided to forgo the shirt. The air conditioner was for shit. 

Deanna was sprawled on one of the two beds, wearing nothing but a pair of blue striped boxer shorts and a gray tank top, her short hair ruffled and spiky with sweat. Sam flopped down next to her before he could think better of it, curling against her side. 

“What’s on TV?” Sam asked. 

“The X Files,” Deanna said. “Mulder thinks it’s an alien abduction, Scully thinks he’s wrong.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Sounds boring,” said Sam. He ran his bare foot lightly over Deanna’s muscular calf, and she didn’t stop him. It was deliciously fuzzy, the hair there soft as a kitten.

Deanna hmm’d noncommittally. She felt warm against him, her skin slightly sticky where they touched. Sam found himself staring at her chest, his eyes drawn to the V leading down to her breasts, and to the shape of her nipples under the thin fabric. 

Deanna looked over at him, and followed the line of his gaze. Her tongue darted out to touch her lips. 

“See something you like, Sammy?” she asked. Her tone was playful, giving him a chance to make a joke and pull away. 

He should, he knew he should. What he wanted was monstrous, and he didn’t want to ruin the most important relationship in his life. But God, oh God, he ached to touch her. He lifted his hand and settled it lightly to cup her small breast, over her shirt. Deanna gasped, her hips shifting, and looked away. She didn’t try to remove his hand. Sam had never touched a breast before. It felt unbearably soft. His cock swelled with the new sensation. He stroked his thumb over her nipple and felt it peak and harden to his touch. 

Deanna’s hand smoothed over Sam’s shaggy hair, brushing it away from his face, and then landed on the back of his neck. It traced carefully over his shoulders, as if she appreciated their strength, and settled on his bony ribs.

Sam carefully tugged down the straps of Deanna’s tank top, until the shirt pooled around her waist, exposing both her breasts. They were paler than her face and throat, hidden from the sun when she trained, and dappled along the top with brown freckles. Sam touched the breast closest to him again, no fabric separating him from Deanna now, and felt her shudder as he traced his finger around her areola. 

He knew he should say something, that one of them needed to admit what was happening. But he also knew that if either of them spoke, that would make it real, and they’d stop. And he _would_ stop, he’d stop in an instant if that was what Deanna wanted, but he didn’t have the strength to be the one to call it off. 

He kept fondling her, unable to get used to the thrill of feeling her body under his hand. She looked back toward him, unable to avert her eyes anymore, and her plump mouth was red and wet where she’d licked it. Sam wanted to kiss her, chase her slick tongue with his own, but it felt too dangerous, too much like an admission. He lowered his lips to her nipple instead, sucking it into his mouth while he stroked the other nub, clutching at her breasts with needy fingers. Deanna cried out as her back arched reflexively, pushing her deeper into his mouth. Sam’s hips jerked without his permission, thrusting his erection into her thigh. 

Sam kept his mouth and left hand busy with Deanna’s breasts, but allowed his right hand to drift under the waistband of her boxers until he found the rough texture of her pubic hair. There was a spot of moisture just where he felt the split begin, but she clenched her thighs shut as his touch crept lower. He stopped, his hand resting palm open against the soft fur of her lower belly, seeking nothing more.

He redoubled his efforts on her breasts, sucking and stroking them as he rocked against her, desperate for relief. Gradually, as he suckled her nipples and drew out her moans, he felt her thighs begin to part. He slid his hand slowly down, ready to pull back if she so much as flinched, but Deanna allowed his exploration. Her folds were slick and fingers slid smoothly between them. Sam didn’t know what he was seeking, but he knew his body thrilled with the feeling of Deanna pulsing and unfolding around his hand. He slid his index finger carefully inside her, and groaned at the feeling of her body clutching at him, trying to draw him further in.

Deanna grunted unceremoniously and pushed her hand past Sam’s waistband. When her practiced fingers curled around his cock he bucked into them with embarrassing eagerness. No one had ever touched him that way before. She fumbled with his sweatpants, shoving them down around his ankles before her powerful grip rolled him on top of her. She kicked off her boxers, leaving her clad in nothing but the tank top awkwardly stuck around her waist.

Deanna’s legs fell open invitingly, and Sam rocked between them, blind with his hunger. She was warm and slick against the slide of his cock, and her legs wrapped around his waist like they were always meant to be there. He was past rational thought, near completion, when Deanna reached between them and took hold of him. He thought she meant to jerk him off, but instead she tilted the head of his cock toward her opening. It was impossibly warm and wet around him. His hips jerked without his permission, and with a single thrust he was seated fully inside his sister’s body, his virginity lost, his hopes of normalcy gone.

He couldn’t make himself care. He just wanted to finish. He rutted frantically, his hands gripping Deanna’s breasts. He leaned in and kissed her red mouth at last, as he knew he shouldn’t, delicately pressing his tongue inside as he shook with the intensity of their connection. She twined herself around him as she trembled through her orgasm. The sheer force of it dragged Sam after her, muscles locked up in a violent spasm as he spilled his come into her.

Sam lay in Deanna’s arms for a long moment afterward, unable to think beyond the moment he was in. It was Deanna who moved finally, ruffling Sam’s hair fondly before she sat up and pulled away, putting her clothes back on without comment. Sam remained on the bed, naked and terrified.

“I think it’s pizza time, don’t you?” She looked at Sam, still frozen, and smiled. “You want veggie lovers, right?” Sam nodded numbly.

“Excellent! I’ll go for anything but Hawaiian,” she said. She eyed him carefully. “You’re my little brother. You know I love you no matter what, right?”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “I know.” He pulled his sweatpants up.

“Good,” said Deanna as she dialed the pizza place.

Sam knew the day would come when they had to talk about what had happened between them, for better or worse, but he was grateful for the reprieve Deanna had offered him, at least for tonight.


End file.
